Friction
by Wolfram von Bielefeld
Summary: Friction: The meeting of two opposing forces. Yuuram.


_Read the author's note for my begging for forgiveness. _

_Just a little one shot to keep you guys occupied while I finish the next chapter of Dance With The Devil. My little brother gave me the idea the other day while he was doing his science homework and reading out the definitions of his vocabulary words out to me to get on my nerves. Who would have thought that SCIENCE would inspire me?!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

Wolfram sighed as he leaned against the flat glass window overlooking the castle's gardens. The sun shone cheerfully, the grass was a rich shade of green, and the flowers blossomed happily, their petals reaching out to touch the sky. This cheerful spring air was the complete opposite of Wolfram's feelings. The happy mood outside that seemed to seep in through the thin glass windows avoided Wolfram entirely and he was left to brood in his room alone as the rest of the inhabitants of Blood Pledge Castle went on with their day with a cheerful spring in their step.

Wolfram sighed again, this time just a bit louder. The brat prince was paid little mind today, and he was forced to lock himself up in his room and mope over the injustice that had been forced upon him. For once in his life, Wolfram didn't have suitors knocking on his door, he didn't have soldiers admiring his sword technique, and he didn't even have the magic trainees asking for just one more demonstration on his fire abilities.

This day could not get any worse for the blonde Vienna Boy's Choir look alike.

Wolfram stood abruptly from his position by the window and hastily started to pace back and forth, murmuring to himself.

"What makes him so great?" He muttered angrily. "Who does he think he is? Suddenly appearing out of no where just to ruin my life!" He grumbled some more, this time taking up a soft pillow from his queen sized bed and tossing it across the room, satisfying in the loud crashing sound that it made when it collided with the vase on his vanity.

He blinked away the anger when he caught sight of the broken glass scattered on the floor, the shards calming him. He sighed once more, this time sadly, and bent to pick up the sharp pieces of glass. It had been a gift from his mother, and he had broken it.

Wolfram paused in his ministrations to mutter quietly, "Why couldn't mother remain the queen? Why does everything have to change…?"

They had been happy, his family and he, in a dysfunctional sort of way. Gwendal had been the father to both Conrart and Wolfram and Celi had been the detached and yet still clingy mother. Conrart had been the prized second son…and Wolfram…

…well, Wolfram had been the delicate beautiful one who was always kept at home to rot away in his golden cage…

But it had been alright…they had been a small family and Wolfram had been happy where he was…he had been happy not fighting in the war…happy watching his brothers march off leaving him with the women and children…happy…

"We don't need him…" Wolfram carefully tried to see if the glass shards would fit together, but they were too mangled. They were broken beyond repair. "We're not broken..." He couldn't find the ruts where the pieces were supposed to go. "We can fix ourselves…" The glass fell from his shaking hands. "We don't need him to pick us back up…" Tears fell on the broken shards. "We aren't helpless…" He didn't fight the droplets escaping his emerald orbs any longer. "We aren't scared…"

They didn't need this stranger from another world invading everything that they had known; they didn't need him disrupting their lives. They didn't need this friction, this meeting of opposing forces that wasn't meant to be.

Wolfram stood from the floor, having gathered the broken pieces once more, and deposited them in the small bin by his desk.

"Come now, Wolfram, let's not waste tears on the oaf…" Wolfram whispered to himself before returning to the window and glancing outside towards the courtyard once more. The cheerful faces seemed to return his anger to him. How could they be so happy?! Did they not know of the danger that must await them?!

He tore away from the window, throwing the curtains over it to hide the sunlight from view. He wouldn't allow this 'Yuuri' to ruin his day further. He would continue as he always has. He threw open the wardrobe doors and pulled out a white tunic shirt (1) and hastily dressed, and after tying the last sash around his waist, he exited the bedroom, intent on training a bit outside.

Ignoring the excited eyes that he passed, he quickly changed course and headed, instead, to Gwendal's office. He knocked three times on the heavy oak wood door, awaiting permission to enter.

"Come in." He heard the deep voice of his eldest brother sound.

Gwendal sat at his desk like he always did, and this little fact made Wolfram joyous. He was happy to see at least one person who was unaffected by the assured arrival of the new Maoh today. He was glad for some semblance of normalcy.

Gwendal looked up and his sapphire eyes met Wolfram's emerald. "Yes, what is it?"

Wolfram bit back a smile at Gwendal's gruff voice. He was so relieved to hear the ordinary tone in it. "Can you believe everyone, Big Brother Gwendal? Getting so worked up over something as ridiculous as this 'Yuuri' person coming today!" Wolfram came to sit beside Gwendal in a large overstuffed armchair, catching sight of Gwendal's knitting needles.

Gwendal remained silent, choosing to let Wolfram continue on his rant. He knew from experience that it was best to let Wolfram let it all out rather than to interject and state his own opinion. He simply continued to knit, allowing Wolfram to hold the yarn ball and play with it, twisting it around his thin fingers.

"I mean, who does he think he is? Coming here and pretending that he owns the place!" Wolfram took another ball of yarn out of the basket by Gwendal's feet and began making stitches with his fingers, substituting them for knitting needles.

"He hasn't even arrived yet, Wolfram." Gwendal quietly added, the knitting making him feel peaceful.

It was silent then, both brothers focusing on what they were doing. Gwendal was making a stuffed bear (rabbit?) while Wolfram was constructing a ring of some sort out of the multicolored yarn. This pattern was peaceful and comforting, the way that it had always been. This was how Wolfram liked it, these times that he spent with his brother-father. It hadn't been too long since the last time Wolfram had thought of Gwendal as 'father' instead of 'brother' and he couldn't say that he could have a better father or brother. Gwendal seamlessly fit into both roles and supported their little family, taking care to spend time with Wolfram especially because he was the baby.

And Wolfram liked the attention. He liked how Gwendal focused on him when he wanted. He liked how he got Big Brother Gwen's attention the moment he asked for it. He enjoyed being the baby and having everyone focus on him. But at the same time, he despised it. He hated being left behind all the time. He couldn't stand how everyone saw him, but at the same time, they didn't. He hated being called the Selfish Prince. He abhorred being thought of as the delicate baby brother and the son of his mother. He hated how his own father didn't want him because of this.

He saw out of the corner of his eye, Gwendal pausing in his knitting to glance at his shaking hands. He quickly made a little stitch to distract the look. He didn't need that kind of attention; it was unbefitting of a prince such as him to receive negative looks.

The sound of shuffling feet outside the door of the office caused both brothers to stop what they were doing and stand abruptly from their place by the large desk. Gwendal headed towards the large floor-to-ceiling window that made up most of the back wall. He glanced down, an almost sneer forming on his face. His look told Wolfram all he needed to know.

Wolfram sauntered over to where Gwendal stood, stopping when he was slightly behind him.

"He's arrived…"

Their eyes met briefly, emerald and sapphire clashing, before they each nodded slightly and exited the room, intent on heading to the courtyard. They met hardly anyone on their way there, the rest of the castle's occupants busy preparing their introduction. Gwendal and Wolfram swept through the stone halls, both minds focused on exactly the same thing.

When they finally completed their trek to the courtyard, they were surprised to see utter chaos unraveling before their eyes. There was a black horse neighing and kicking, soldiers all around the beast attempting to stop it, there were maids in the sidelines, gasping at the animal. And amidst all this, was a scrawny, black haired and eyed teenaged boy, clumsily sprawled on the dirt, the obvious cause of the distress.

Wolfram remained by the doorway and watched as Gwendal quickly walked down the steps and met the animal, placing his large hand on the beast's warm head and soothingly patting it. The horse calmed almost immediately, calmly settling back on the ground and nuzzling into Gwendal's hand.

Looking toward the 'Maoh,' Wolfram grimaced and made his own way down the steps, his mind focused on berating and belittling him. This 'Maoh' was definitely _not_ the one they had all been waiting for. He wasn't muscular or wise looking, and his physique was clumsy and odd. He looked like a bumbling idiot, not the great hero that all of them had hoped to cling to.

Wolfram had this entire speech worked out, and as he reached the bottom of the steps, he opened his mouth to let this 'Maoh' have it. "So _this _is the new Maoh?"

His confident green eyes sparkled with mirth and he glared down at the black haired idiot. But suddenly, the boy looked up, his wide black eyes meeting Wolfram's, and Wolfram was gone. He wanted to keep staring, to look into the innocent black eyes filled with naivety. Their eyes met, and suddenly the world disappeared and only they remained. Their eyes met and Wolfram's heart stopped beating and his lungs stopped pumping, and out of almost no where, he felt his lips twitching. For the first time since Conrart's confession, he had to fight to keep the grimace present….their eyes met…

…And it was simply friction…

– I'm going with the outfit that Wolfram wore in the manga when he met Yuuri for the first time.

_I know, I know. I haven't updated in EXACTLY a month. I'm REALLY sorry about that. My laptop got a virus and without it, I was simply unable to write like I was used to writing. I finally got it back today and now I can write again! I have most of the next chapter of Dance With The Devil completed and I'll be finishing that in the next few days, so look out for that!_


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